Chapter Text
The doctor sat in his chair in a room of blinding lights. The shelves that lined the walls only seemed to grow taller and wider as the man worked and worked. He was always working. Jewel cleaned or gardened or whatever she did all day when she wasn't caring for him, and Sally never visited. He supposed she had a right to that. He'd never been the best father, definitely not to her, He didn’t blame her for not returning, upset as it made him.
Moment after moment, that silence settled into the air and onto his work. That was until the door sounded with about the loudest and most frenzied knocking he’d ever heard. He had a doorbell. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why someone would be knocking, especially like that but he supposed he’d better answer before it blew what was left of his eardrums out.
The electric whir of his chair was barely heard over the pounding, and it didn't stop until he opened the door and was met with a small girl.
Her name was Shock, or maybe it was Lock. It wasn't Barrel, he knew that at least. Barrel was the green one. This was the girl, and she eventually put her hand down from where it was up knocking. Now he knew why the doorbell wasn't used. She was too short to reach it.
Dr. Finkelstein looked from left to right, trying to scrape out where the boys were, trying to prepare for whatever prank they would absolutely pull. He did not see them. Only the little girl stood waiting, almost jittery. He almost shut the door, not trusting that simply because he couldn't see the boys, doesn't mean they weren't there, but she put her foot in the doorway. It was too tiny to hold the door open, and he supposed she figured that out and grabbed his lab coat instead and gripped it with her tiny gloved fingers.
The doctor yelped, yelling, "What do you think you're doing!?" He tried to pluck her fingers off but she didn't budge. She was oddly strong, he probably should have guessed that based on the knocking, "What do you want?" he griped, continuing his losing battle of trying to pry her fingers from his coat. She was getting dirt on it.
"Just hear me out!" She yelled, a high pitched voice ringing in his ears. "Just hear me out, please!" Her eyes were screwed shut, hat almost falling off her head
"Fine!" he yelled back, "Just get your hands off of me!" He glared at her through those black tinted goggles. Once she'd finally let go, he turned his chair with a jerk and made towards his lab, "Follow me, I'm not standing in the doorway."
As he made his way back to his lab, still wary of the boys, the little witch trailed behind him, little boots clacking against the tile. He didn't have to look behind to know she was looking at and touching everything she saw. He knew for sure when he heard a distinct shatter, and he looked behind himself to see a girl with a heavily over-innocent look on her face.
“Would it ever be of any use to ask you why you did that?” he asked, an already exasperated look on his face. She smiled, gapped teeth showing under naturally indigo lips.
"Would you believe me if I said I didn't?" She asked, batting her eyelashes at him.
…
"No. "
…
Eventually they made it to his lab and went to grab something as she sat herself on the bright metal table.
"So,” he began, “What is it that you want vermin?” He coughed at the end of that sentence. He was reaching for a box of chalk when she spoke.
“I want you to teach me,"
“What?”
“I want you to teach me!”
“Teach you what!?” He stared at her, dumbfounded. That's what she was here for? “How old are you?” he asked, wondering what she even knew. She didn't look too old, she was very short. He wondered also if that was the reason she wore such a large hat.
Shock seemed to count an obscene amount of fingers before shrugging and finally answering with, “Seven, I think?” He only stared at her. She can’t count.
"You think?" He questioned.
"Yeah. " She answered.
"So you don't really know?" He went on, pulling his goggles up to rest on his head, black beady eyes staring at her now. He scowled, not because he was angry, but because it was his resting face.
“No,” she sang, twirling. "I'm not really keeping up." She did a little dance, which he assumed she did when she was bored and didn't want to sit still. When had she gotten up from the table?
"Not keeping up?" he asked, "Why aren't you keeping up?" Kids loved birthdays, surely she would keep up if only to count the days until then.
"No!" She repeated, tapping her foot impatiently
"What kind of kid doesn’t know their own age?" he went on bending down slightly.
"Do you know how old you are?" she asked, dramatically eyeing him with her hands on her hips.
He almost said fair point, but William Finkelstein never gave up that easily. "That's different, I'm old, you're a child. Don’t you have a birthday to be waiting for or something?”
“I’ve never celebrated my birthday,” She answered, rocking back and forth on her heels, “Not that I remember anyway.”
Then there was a silence. A long and dreadful silence, one in which the long dead doctor had a thousand questions to ask but a thousand reasons as to why he wouldn't ask them. Where are your parents? Do you even know your birthday? Do you have anyone watching you? Where are your brothers? Are they even your brothers? Where are their parents? All good questions that he would never ask in the name of making sure she didn’t mistake his curiosity for care. He didn’t care about her, he just wanted to know, but children were children. They get attached, they mistake any ounce of interaction for affection, and frankly he did not want another child. He had already dealt with Sally and his biological children all those years ago. He did not need this again.
Eventually Shock was tired of the silence and spoke up, in typical kid fashion. “So, are you going to teach me?” She asked, her high pitched voice already making his ears ache. Her too little eyes almost sparkled in the light.
“No.”
“Why!?” she shrieked, stomping her foot.
“Because!” He raised his voice, pointing a finger at her, “You’ve only been here less than fifteen minutes and you’ve already broken my things, tracked mud into my house, and made my head ache with your squabbling little voice!” He saw her face shift from angry to almost guilty before molding into childlike determination.
“Then let me strike you a deal,” She offered, mischief sparkling in her eyes. He could already tell she wouldn’t stop until she got what she wanted. He would not give her what she wanted. She’ll have to learn sooner or later that she can’t always have what she wants.
“Fine, state your bargain,” He told her, tapping his foot. He did not tap it for very long, as it hurt, but he hoped it got the point of impatience across.
She stayed silent for a while, thinking of what she could possibly give him, which was nothing. Finkelstein did not need anything from a possibly seven year old girl, let alone want anything. There was nothing she could offer him. Nothing she could possibly have that he would need.
“I won’t break anything in your house anymore, and I’ll stop and clean my boots before coming inside!” She offered, tilting her hat down as if to appear more innocent. He knew she was nowhere near innocent.
“You can’t do either of those things you’re promising not to do if I don’t let you in, so no,”
“I’ll talk less!”
“That can also be solved by not letting you in.”
“I’ll be nice to your wife!”
“She doesn’t associate with people outside.”
“I’ll stop pranking Sally!”
“That has nothing to do with me.”
Shock stomped her foot, juvenile frustration bleeding through her face as she thought of anything she could possibly offer the man. Her tiny gloved hands balled into fists and he could see her pale cheeks turn blue with the effort it took such a small child to think. Suddenly her face became very calm, which worried the doctor a reasonable amount, before she looked up at him with a sly smile.
“You can’t walk,” She declared, her hands clasped behind her back. He didn’t like where this was going.
“And..?” He went on warily, turned his head to the side slightly. She grinned. He definitely didn’t like this.
“You can’t walk, so I could get your weird science stuff for you in return for you teaching me things!” She said, excitement rippling through her features, knowing that she had definitely said something that he wanted.
…
Damnit.
…
“And if I refuse..?” He asked, leaning back slightly. Her smile turned wicked and her cheeks became the color of freshly bloomed violets.
“I’ll sick my brothers on you,” She said, an excited skip in her voice as she knew she had got him. How much havoc does a group of elementary age kids have to wreak for an entire town to be this afraid of them? He did not know, but he knew that he was one of the many who did fear them and was not about to risk being their target for not being nice to their sister.
“Fine!” He yelled, slamming his fist against the arm of his chair. She cackled, twirling her dress around and around in joy. She knew she had him, and he knew it too.
“Why can't the local witch coven teach you? You're a witch aren't you!?” he questioned, trying to find any possible way out of this.
“No! They don't like me.” She replied, scowling at the mention of them. I wonder why. He wanted to say, but he did have a fear of those aforementioned brothers. She had him fair and square, and now he had no choice.
He sighed so tiredly, holding his head in his hand and wondering what he'd done to deserve this. Why couldn't people just leave him alone?
…
“Fine, child, fine! It's a deal.” he held out his hand to shake, which she gladly came forward to do. He made sure to grab her other wrist and hold it out so that she couldn't cross her fingers. He wouldn't be a victim to that like Jack had been far too many times. He thought Jack would grow wiser, but he never did. She giggled at the fact that she'd been caught, but shook his hand anyway.
“So,” he started, “We'll need to begin this later. I have to figure out what I want to teach you, so in the meantime you can get my ingredients!” At least he'd found the silver lining. Somewhat free labor and all he had to do was blabber a few math and science lessons. Easy enough. She waited patiently for him to state what he needed, and he did.
“I need some eyes, preferably of the smaller type.” The doctor listed, “I need some mushrooms of the glowing variety, salt, and some rope. Can you get that for me?” None were for any particular project, all were just things he was lacking currently. He decided she was a bit too young to be retrieving actual chemicals for him, but he'd get around to that when she was older.
“You got it, Doc!” she exclaimed, turning on her heel and making for the door. Her little boots clacked against the floor in an almost endearing way before hefting the door open with all her little strength and running out. It slammed behind her and he was almost thankful for it. Even if she was annoying, this was helpful. To him. Just to him. He would not let it go further than that.
Now he was alone again, stuck with the responsibility of lesson plans.
…
Time to get to work.